


Tracking the Weather

by Annariel



Category: Doctor Who (1963), Sapphire and Steel
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-30
Updated: 2015-12-30
Packaged: 2018-05-10 10:55:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 589
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5583187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annariel/pseuds/Annariel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Aircraft and ships are vanishing in the wake of the Hurricane.  More than seem natural.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Tracking the Weather

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lost_spook](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_spook/gifts).



Liz whacked the side of the terminal in frustration as the screen glitched and fritzed again. 

"Do we have any idea where this storm is going to make landfall?" she asked in irritation.

The screen sparked back into life and a procession of green numbers marched across the black background. Liz frowned at them. She'd been reading up on storm tracking as fast as she could, but it was not her field of expertise and the numbers were not speaking to her.

"Latest estimates should be in at the command centre," the technician said. 

"Can you go and get them?"

The man nodded and hurried out of the room. Liz sat back and pulled distractedly at her hair. She wasn't even sure if the direction the hurricane was headed was relevant, but it at least gave her data to work with.

"The direction isn't relevant, no," a voice said.

Liz span in her chair to see Silver perched on one of the nearby tables. He was swinging his legs nonchalantly and toying with a stapler.

"However, if you're here, then presumably the problem isn't aliens," she said.

"Not aliens, no. What have you been picking up?"

"A lot of missing boats and planes. More than they expect for a storm this size."

"Interesting," Silver twisted the stapler in an improbable direction and looked thoughtful.

"Is there a reason you're here?" Liz couldn't help asking. "Surely the problem is where the storm is."

"Oh yes! Very likely. The others are there doing something terribly practical I expect."

"While you're here humouring the scientists and playing with staplers?"

"Not entirely. You see we don't think the origin of the problem is the storm. We think the origin is in the tracking system."

Liz looked back at the monitor and the green numbers marching across it.

"In here? The information from the satellite?" she tapped the box. "They've had the satellite up there for over ten years you know."

"There are other factors." Silver jumped off the table and disappeared behind her monitor. It flicked off again and she could hear him moving cables.

"What other factors?" she demanded, moving around the desk so she could see what he was doing.

He appeared to be feeding the remains of the stapler into the Gandalf box that connected her terminal to the mainframe.

He glanced up at her. "Other factors."

"Silver!"

He grinned at her. "Give me five minutes and I'll show you."

Liz huffed a little but waited as patiently as she could while the stapler was wrapped around the box. There was a spark of green light and Silver yelped, shaking his hand.

"Problem?" she asked.

"A minor one, you wouldn't happen to have any gold around here would you."

Liz sighed and pulled out one of her stud earrings. "Is this enough?"

"Perfect, thanks!" The earring appeared to vanish into the connections on the Gandalf box.

There was a slight popping noise and a sudden silence. Liz realised that the sounds of the mainframe running had vanished. She looked up to see the large tape spools were all still.

Silver beamed. "There all fixed!"

"The mainframe's shut down!"

"Just a hiccup. It'll be fine in a moment. I just had to clear out the network."

There was a faint hum and then the mainframe restarted. Liz couldn't help feeling that several people were going to be very unhappy.

"Would you like to see now?" Silver's smile was almost shy, though Liz suspected he was play-acting.

Still, data was data.

"Yes."


End file.
